De fermer les yeux, dans la mort qui t'attends..

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/- I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow, I am the sun on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning’s hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circling flight. I am the soft star-shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there; I did not die. - / I'm Danielle and people think I am who I'm not. I have a thing for words. ~  Decaying mind(s), "And the moral of the story is that you don't remember what happened. What you remember becomes what happened."